


The Observer Effect

by datalaur



Series: Deus ex Machina [5]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Goes AU during Generations, M/M, Workplace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-08-05
Updated: 1999-08-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22081090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/datalaur/pseuds/datalaur
Summary: Set shortly afterGenerations, so Data's still getting used to his emotion chip. When Data and Bruce are working in the cyberneticist's lab at the Daystrom annex, Data decides to try a little experiment.1999 ASCEM 1st place (tie) for Best TNG Miscellaneous Slash
Relationships: Data/Bruce Maddox
Series: Deus ex Machina [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1595050
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	The Observer Effect

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Paramount owns _Star Trek_. That which is not Paramount’s is mine.

Something moved, just inside his peripheral vision. Startled, Bruce glanced to his right. It was only Data, carefully retrieving a module from the storage unit containing components from Lore's partially-disassembled brain. Data returned to his seat and was immediately engrossed in his work again, but Bruce's admiring gaze lingered over the slim, compact form.

The cyberneticist's usually intent expression softened to a dreamy smile. He could hardly believe how lucky he was. Somehow, Data still wanted to be with him, despite the frank disapproval of Data's friends and LaForge's vindictive accusations.

At the thought of the engineer, his eyes narrowed. Weeks of working together in one laboratory made for a very tense atmosphere, especially with the way LaForge butted in any time Bruce so much as scanned Data. Then again, that jealous protectiveness was the precise reason that Bruce had manipulated the engineer into accompanying Data to Daystrom in the first place.

_Well, at least that asshole's out of my face for a few days,_ Bruce thought, glad that the engineer had gone to the nearby starbase to check out the new ocular implants. Then Bruce deliberately pushed the engineer out of mind and turned to the evening ahead, one where LaForge wouldn't be able to come up with some lame excuse to horn in on Bruce's time with Data.

Then, recalling all the things he had to finish before LaForge returned, Bruce sobered up. He didn't have time for that sort of self-indulgent daydreaming, not with the damaged emotion chip still in Data's head. He peered at the replica through the microscanner and frowned. Carefully using the probe to trace the circuit path in question, his eyes flicked now and then to the readouts. An injudicious movement meant he'd have to start the trace over again; with his right hand practically useless after the accident, doing such delicate work with his left hand required the utmost concentration. And yet it was difficult to concentrate with Data so close.

Data smiled secretively, not looking up from his repairs on one of Lore's subprocessing modules. He knew that Bruce had been looking at him. He had not seen him, or heard him, he just... knew, somehow. It was a new sensation, this awareness, and definitely a pleasant one.

Four-point-seven minutes later, Data heard Bruce sigh. There was a soft _click_ as the cyberneticist set the probe down on the worktable.

Seemingly oblivious, Data continued working on his own repair project. He could feel the heat of the other man's intent gaze; the warm awareness of his lover's proximity spurred another sort of warmth, this one lower down.

Still, Data pretended to be unaware of the human beside him, though he could hear every breath, every thudding heartbeat. Listening carefully, he fancied that he heard the tiny noise of eyelashes fluttering with each blink. The corners of Data's mouth quirked up the tiniest bit when he heard Bruce blow out an annoyed breath and then tug at his clothing.

Watching Data work, Bruce told himself that he was an idiot. How could he allow Data's mere presence to ruin his concentration? It was utterly ridiculous, this hormonal reaction. Biting his lip hard to distract himself from other physical sensations, he squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

_You are thinking about this chip_ , the cyberneticist told himself firmly. _Now, why is the neuroelectrical resistance level in this path so high?_ He bent over the microscanner again, laying out the possibilities in his mind.

Data calmly allowed part of his brain to concentrate on the task at hand, leaving the rest of his mind free to do whatever it pleased. Including personal amusement. Deliberately sighing softly, at just the right volume to get someone's attention, the android pretended to push an errant strand of hair off his forehead. 

_Oh, you are totally pathetic_ , Bruce castigated himself, realizing that his gaze had strayed back. Data was looking particularly sexy in an absent-minded sort of way, as he brushed a hair out of his face. _No more self-control than a lovestruck teenager, for god's sake! As if you hadn't gotten your fill of him last night!_

Except now that Bruce thought about it, he really hadn't.

Data smiled internally, hearing the increased breathing and heart rate. Yes, he had achieved the desired effect once again. It had been an amazing discovery that the smallest thing he did could affect his lover to such an extent. He was like a child with a new toy, playing carefully but endlessly with this new knowledge, feeling important and needed every time Bruce responded to him. It was incredible to know he mattered that much to someone, after so many years of being alone. He had had close friends on the _Enterprise_ , but there was no one who loved him. No one who really _needed_ him, not like Bruce did.

_Now you just stop it_ , Bruce warned his lower anatomy, which was unrepentantly demanding attention. _I've got to figure this out. Now, why aren't the readings consistent…_ He cursed under his breath when he realized that he'd set up the path comparison improperly. Of course the readings were going to be skewed! With a mix of impatience and extreme care, he deleted the faintly-glowing lines that indicated the selected circuits, determined to start over. Properly, this time.

Hearing the muttered curses, Data divined that something had gone amiss. He turned a little, before his grin could give him away. Softly, he started humming, an old love song from Earth. He wondered if Bruce would recognize it.

Evidently not. Still, Bruce was listening to him so Data continued to hum the gentle, haunting tune. Although he was keenly aware of his surroundings, Data deliberately fostered the impression that he was concentrating on his work.

Some part of Bruce's brain started wondering how it would feel if Data were to hum like that, while his mouth was on him... Catching himself, Bruce rolled his eyes heavenward. Given that he'd had more sex recently than he'd had in the last decade, it was appalling to find out that his libido was unabated; quite the opposite, in fact. Worse, it seemed stubbornly independent of the times he deemed appropriate.

_And those times certainly do not include Tuesday morning_ , Bruce reminded himself sternly. Definitely not when he was supposed to be finding a way to repair Data's emotion chip. Compressing his lips tightly, Bruce buckled down again.

Detecting the increase in pheromones and raised body temperature, Data had to struggle to keep back his laughter. Oh yes, now he understood the almost perverse pleasure of simultaneously tormenting and arousing someone. He decided to see just how far he could manage to excite his lover without touching, speaking, or even making eye contact until the end. 

_An interesting experiment, and an enjoyable one_ , Data thought, allowing a slight smile to appear on his face while inwardly cataloguing all Bruce's reactions. The song finished, he began another after a short pause, this one slightly more impassioned.

_Damn him anyway_ , Bruce thought crossly. _He's probably almost finished and here I am, not getting a rotten thing done._

Then he started to worry again about his lack of progress. _'No wonder_ ,' he imagined Data thinking, _'No wonder Bruce has not yet devised a way to repair my chip. It takes him forever to set up even a simple circuit diagnostic. Perhaps Geordi is right. Perhaps having Bruce work on my chip is not such a good idea_.' Bruce didn't even want to think about how eager LaForge would be to fuel Data's doubts. He simply had to solve the problem of the chip, and fast.

The cyberneticist stared at the depiction of the damaged chip's pathways, trying to puzzle out the problem by sheer force of will. Logic had already failed -- even Bruce had had to admit that LaForge's earlier repairs should've sufficed. The chip shouldn't have overloaded, yet it had. There had to be some sort of path interaction he wasn't seeing. _Damn that paranoid old bastard anyway_ Bruce thought bitterly. Without any of Soong's documentation to help, he was going to need a leap of intuition before he could fully understand the old man's design.

Minutes passed and nothing. Not a damn thing. Worse, his mind kept sneaking back to inopportune thoughts about Data. Finally, disgusted with himself, Bruce pushed away from the scanner.

Inwardly, Data checked off the small victory when he saw Bruce abandon the pretense of work. As Bruce got to his feet, Data felt a shiver of anticipation. He had found that he loved the cyberneticist's habit of coming up behind him and nuzzling at the side of his neck. Data's eyes closed for a moment as he remembered how good the soft, warm lips and gentle teeth felt against his skin.

Stiff from sitting so long, Bruce's reconstructed hip muscles protested the sudden change to standing. Gritting his teeth against the discomfort, Bruce leaned back against the worktable, stretching carefully.

_Long morning_ , he thought. _Maybe a short break would clear my mind. Hmm, maybe Data would like a break too…_

Bruce almost said something, but when he saw that Data was totally engrossed in his repair efforts, he realized his libido's subterfuge. Gritting his teeth again, Bruce turned and limped over to the replicator on the other side of the room. Feeling unsettled and unhappy, as well as unpleasantly aroused, he brusquely ordered a large coffee.

Deciding that he simply needed to remove himself from the distraction, the cyberneticist took his coffee over to the far side of his laboratory and began fiddling with the newly-delivered AI-based matrix generator.

Data felt more than a little disappointed when he saw how absorbed Bruce was. This was not his first experience with deflation of the ego, but experience was slowly teaching him that it never grew any more pleasant or easy to accept.

Long minutes passed in the silent laboratory.

When he caught himself staring at Data yet again, Bruce finally admitted that his attempts to ignore his lover were an exercise in futility. Making another strategic retreat, he decided that he could at least make some observations, even if he couldn't get any other useful work done.

Soon Data could feel that he was being watched. Perhaps he had been premature in terminating the experiment. Deliberately, the android ran a hand through his hair, so that some of it fell over his forehead -- Bruce always seemed to take delight in releasing his hair from its usual neatly-combed state. Perhaps Bruce would like what he saw, Data thought, bending to his task so that the hair fell softly across his forehead and eyebrows, almost obscuring his eyes, but not quite. Just enough for him to be able to see his work. Just enough for Bruce to see his eyes, as well.

_Hmmm_ , Bruce noted. _Interesting mannerism Data's picked up, combing his fingers through his hair like that._

Abandoning the neuroanalyzer, he quietly changed seats to get a profile view of Data. Actually, Bruce reflected, he had been neglecting his behavioral analysis lately.

Puzzling for a moment as to why Bruce had moved yet again, Data had to stop himself from calling out in triumph when he realized that Bruce was still watching him. The cyberneticist's earlier behavior had obviously been a failed attempt at self-distraction. Data prevented himself from smiling by gently biting his lip, then continued with his work.

_Now there, that's a new one!_ Bruce thought excitedly as he observed Data biting his lip. He swung around quickly to tap on the nearby computer console. In less than a minute, he had a PADD configured to gather formatted input for his main behavioral analysis program. Taking his eyes off Data as little as possible, he began making detailed notes.

Then, as if pondering some course of action, Data tapped a finger gently on his lower lip as he gazed at the component before him.

Bruce was totally enthralled by the novel behavior. _Must get holorecorders installed! I can't believe I've been so negligent! God only knows what I've missed!_

Turning back to the computer console and calling up the supply menu, Bruce quickly requisitioned the necessary equipment and sent off a request for priority installation. Rubbing his forehead, he thought for a moment, trying to remember the facilities manager's assistant's name so he could maneuver her into scheduling the project a little sooner. Then, unsuccessful, he pushed her out of his mind and focused back on Data.

The part of Data's positronic brain that was working on the repairs told him that he needed a certain tool. Automatically, Data started to reach over and grab it, before changing his mind and rising from his seat to fetch the required object. Gracefully seating himself again, he tossed his head a little, partly to get his hair out of the way, and partly for his lover's benefit.

Data continued to work, letting the soft chocolate-brown strands slip back down, section by section, until the hair was down around his face as before. He was pleased he had put so much work into studying human behavioral movements. The emotion chip seemed to make it so much easier, telling him what looked natural and what did not... what felt natural and what did not.

_Damn!_ Bruce thought excitedly, _This is incredible! Movement perfectly smooth, perfectly natural... old Soong would flip if he saw Data move like that!_ The coffee sat on the worktable beside him, cooling and forgotten.

Hiding a grin, Data realized that Bruce was studying him, recording his movements and gestures. _Well,_ he acknowledged, _I was studying him. Fair is fair_.

Closing his eyes for a moment, as if to block out any further distractions, Data tilted his head back in a movement he had observed in humans for years and had practiced in privacy in order to seem natural. Hair settled wherever gravity took it, and Data realized that although it was much less practical than his previous hairstyle, having his ever-so-slightly-longer hair loosened was indeed a nice 'feeling'. He mused that perhaps it looked as nice as it felt. Perhaps that was the reason Bruce liked it so much.

Bruce was practically beside himself with excitement. Data was leaning back his head and relaxing! Simulating stretching tense neck muscles! Incorporation of muscles that would have, for a human, knotted up from the extended intense work! 

Letting his lips part very slightly, Data remained still for a moment before slowly lowering his head and allowing his eyes to flutter open before returning to his work. Keeping his hearing focused on the cyberneticist, he heard him on the verge of hyperventilating. 

Amusement warred with concern and Data debated whether or not to keep the experiment going. He knew that once the overly tense cyberneticist was wound up -- something that Geordi delighted in doing -- getting him to relax could be a lengthy process.

After using his acute senses to gauge Bruce's state of mind, however, Data decided that he could continue with the indirect seduction. He wondered how much longer it would be until his lover took the bait.

When Data slowly twisted his head from side to side, the graceful arch of his exposed throat caught Bruce's eye. Had the cyberneticist's heart not been an artificial implant, it would surely have skipped a beat. As it was, the pumping mechanism responded to the biosensor's signals and began beating even more rapidly.

_Not rough bites, never, no, not on that tender golden skin_ , Bruce thought almost deliriously. _Only little tiny nibbles and nips... and then little licks, mmm, under his jawline, down to the hollow of his throat…_ He imagined himself pushing aside a silken shirt, exposing Data's chest, and then those wonderfully sleek, strong shoulders…

Risking a quick sideways glance, Data smiled to see that Bruce's eyes were closed, his left hand sliding unconsciously across his shoulder and down across his chest, imagining... what? Data did not know yet. Yet.

Bruce was caught up in the fantasy, imagining his lips trailing upward along that jaw, up behind that perfect ear, nibbling at it, whispering in it while he rubbed his body so slowly against Data's... slipping a leg between Data's... rocking against the bare golden skin. Slipping his hands around those slim, perfect hips, that incredible ass, pulling it against him so he could...

With a guilty start, Bruce remembered where he was. He sat up straight in his chair and distractedly raked his own dark hair into a mess. After picking up the PADD and setting it down almost immediately, Bruce reached for his coffee, hoping to calm his rattled nerves.

_Ugh, cold,_ he reacted and set it aside with a convulsive shudder. _Must do something about that. Yes, think about that, about anything other than Data... oh, dear heavens, he's humming again..._

Data still sat in profile to Bruce, and now he decided to risk something slightly less subtle. Instead of humming, he let the notes thrum directly from his throat in an almost velvet purr, a continuous sound that vibrated ever so slightly. He noted with no little amusement that Bruce had rumpled his own hair in a fit of nervous distraction.

Wondering if his lover knew that he had actually picked up that particular mannerism from him, Data decided to imitate yet another one of Bruce's habits. He sat back just a little, tilted his head a little to the side, and used his left hand to gently massage his shoulder, allowing his eyes to close again and a soft sound of contentment and relief to escape him, as if a painful muscle was being relieved of its strain. It was one Bruce employed often, usually when he had been concentrating too intently. Not that Data minded massaging his back after work, coaxing the tense muscles to a relaxed state, kissing the tired eyes...

Bruce paused halfway to the replicator, mouth hanging partly open, as he caught the motion. At that instant, he would have killed for a holorecorder.

Seconds later, belatedly realizing that Data had settled back down to work, Bruce tried to act nonchalant as he made his way to the wall unit and ordered more coffee. Breezily humming a few bars as cover, then abruptly cutting off when he realized it might distract Data, Bruce pretended to be relaxing by the replicator. In truth, he was watching the android's reflection in the shiny black surface. He stood there with his back to Data, sipping carefully at the cup of steaming coffee, watching avidly.

Again brushing a strand of hair out of his face, Data continued to work on the circuit in front of him, setting the tiny, delicate connections in place neatly and efficiently.

Bruce watched the reflection intently, admiring the speed and delicacy of Data's fingers and most definitely not thinking of what those fingers would feel like...

_Damn._

Feigning a casualness he didn't feel, Bruce turned and sidled sideways along the back row of equipment, hoping to catch Data from a different perspective. Halfway there, he remembered the PADD. Feeling the fool, he went back for it and then found himself a new observation point.

Inwardly the android smiled, as he decided to break out yet more of his newfound talent and merge it with long-learned skills. Data rose, walking with deliberate grace to the replicator. He programmed in a request for several delicate circuit components, then half-turned away with the tray in hand.

Pausing, Data turned back, tone of voice carefully calculated to sound like an afterthought. "Oh, and one cup of Tulirian spice tea, please." He casually glanced towards Bruce.

The cyberneticist hurriedly choked down a swallow of hot coffee, nearly scorching his throat in the process. Then he pretended to be engrossed in entering data onto on his PADD. In truth, he was fervently hoping that Data hadn't seen him checking out his ass.

Data walked slowly back to his chair, holding the tray of new components in one hand and the cup in the other. As he had seen his colleagues do, he took measured sips from his cup at strategic points.

Feeling vaguely disappointed, having half-hoped that Data would come over, Bruce sighed and began tidying up his rushed entries. It was just as well; he couldn't think of a thing to say if Data asked what he was working on.

Setting the newly-replicated components aside for the moment, Data moved over to Bruce's original seat and began to examine the replica emotion chip through the microscanner. Leaning forward, he was keenly aware that Bruce was watching him closely. Data thought with a secret smile that he needed only hold the position for a few seconds... anything more would look suspicious.

_Oh, SHIT,_ Bruce thought in a panic, yanking his eyes from Data's invitingly positioned posterior. _He'll see I haven't gotten anything done!_

"Um..." the cyberneticist cleared his throat nervously, "Uh, Data? I'll get back to that in a bit."

Data decided to risk a glance over his shoulder; perhaps it would not hurt to modify the experiment's parameters just a little. Bruce had broken the silence first, after all. "Certainly, Bruce. Whenever you prefer."

Slowly straightening, Data resumed his seat, again taking a few measured sips from his cup. He let his tongue flicker out to catch a droplet he'd deliberately left on his lips, licking them slowly, as if savoring the tea. Which part of him actually was -- it tasted 'good'.

"I was just... oh." Goggling at the sight of Data licking his lips, Bruce stammered, "I, I mean, I was just busy with... something."

"Of course," Data said calmly. "You can work on the chip whenever you like."

"I will. I mean, I know it's important." Realizing that he was babbling, Bruce sat down quickly and pretended great interest in his coffee. He couldn't quite keep his eyes off Data though, who was sipping his tea in a leisurely fashion.

In less than a minute, the cyberneticist couldn’t take the silence. Before Data got involved again with his work, he wanted to talk with him for a few minutes. There wasn't anything wrong with that. He wasn't going to go near Data, after all. Just talk. And then get right back to work.

"So... how are you doing?" Bruce said with a nervous laugh.

"I am currently taking a short 'break'. I find it to be a most pleasant experience." Again, Data barely touched his tongue to his lips; the fact that he was enjoying the hot, sweetly spicy liquid was obvious.

"How's the... stuff?" For the life of him, Bruce couldn't remember what Data had ordered. It smelled good, in a spicy sort of way. "Smells nice."

With an unpleasant jolt, Bruce found himself standing in front of Data. Somehow his feet weren't listening any better than his dick had.

"The Tulirian spice tea? It is quite flavorsome, but not overpoweringly so."

Bruce found himself perversely hoping that Data would offer him a taste. Which was odd, because he had always hated when people wanted to try his food, or something he was drinking. And it was always sort of an obligation with family; his ex-wife had expected it, but really it was awful because then her lipstick would get on his cup or his fork and just ruin everything...

"Would you like to try some?" Data held the cup out.

"Huh? Oh, oh, yes, please." The cyberneticist smiled nervously. Tucking the PADD carefully under his disabled arm, he reached out with his left hand. Bruce took a quick sip, barely tasting it as those golden eyes held his, feeling more flustered than ever.

Data raised an eyebrow. "Do you like it?" he asked in his most innocent tone of voice, blinking a little and tilting his head in his usual birdlike manner, allowing his hair to continue its unimpeded movement over his face.

It was good, Bruce noticed distantly. "Oh, it's very tasty. I'll have to have some later." He realized he'd forgotten what it was called. Again.

Nodding calmly, Data went back to his worktable and sat back down, deliberately leaving Bruce holding the cup, wondering what he'd do with it. He was very aware of being followed. He smiled as the cyberneticist stood next to him.

Feeling the need to validate himself by asking something technical, Bruce leaned against the table edge. He looked down at Data, holding the forgotten teacup. "How much longer do you think it's going to take to get the emnion function working?"

"I am not sure. It should be responding now, and yet it is not. There is no damage, and no fault in the connections that I can ascertain."

Shaking his head slowly, Bruce said, "I don't know why it won't work consistently." He sighed; a series of intermittent problems with Lore's circuits had frustrated him for months. Then he shrugged. "Maybe it's just temperamental." He smiled, hoping that Data would find the subjective term amusing when applied to equipment.

Data sighed, not for show this time, and brushed his hand through his hair yet again. "Yes, Lore was certainly that. However, I fail to see why his circuitry would be, once he was disassembled."

Bruce's grin broadened. What a sense of humor Data had turned out to have. "You're more than your circuits. Why shouldn't Lore's have something more, too?"

Deliberately tilting his head so that he was looking up into his lover's face, Data said plaintively. "That may be, but that means that even disassembled, he manages to make things difficult."

Bruce escaped his gaze by focusing on setting down the tea without spilling it. "Well, that's certainly a more palatable explanation than simply blaming it on ourselves. Though I don't think I'll try to use that excuse with the admiral." He smiled wryly. "But it's true, I've never had such trouble repairing anything as I have had with Lore."

"Perhaps there is more of my brother in his individual components than we realize. I wonder what there would be, if this theory holds true, in my own components?"

"I trust you won't be hasty in giving me the opportunity to find out." It was said lightly, but there was an anxious undertone.

"No. I am quite interested in remaining intact, thank you."

Bruce managed a small smile. "That's a relief. I'd never want you to think I was trying to get into your circuitry."

Data had to stop himself from laughing outright at Bruce's unintended double entendre. Instead, he closed his eyes again and tilted his head back.

"What?" Bruce asked, wondering what he had said wrong. "Oh... I didn't mean it that way!"

Opening one eye a fraction, Data raised an eyebrow. "No? I am disappointed." _And that, Bruce, is the only clue you will receive from me_ , Data decided, as he turned back to his work and started to hum again.

_Why does he always do that?_ Bruce thought despairingly. _He drops what looks or sounds like a hint, and then he just leaves it hanging there._

Probably it wasn't a hint, and Bruce didn't want to overreact. It was bad enough that being around Data constantly turned him on; he certainly didn't want Data to think that sex was all he wanted. It was a awful quandary. How could he show Data that he loved him in more than a physical way, when the wretchedly wonderful physical aspects kept grabbing his body's attention?

Bruce settled for, "Data, you know I want all of you, circuitry and otherwise."

Smiling and looking straight into his lover's eyes, Data said softly and sincerely, "Yes, I know."

_Uh-oh,_ Bruce thought with alarm. Now Data was looking at him with that wide-eyed look, that tiny half-smile, and he was seriously tempted to simply grab Data and kiss him like crazy. And then tear off his clothes and… No, wait, he couldn't do that, not here; he was going to have to wait until they went home.

Humor seemed the most likely way to divert Data's incendiary gaze. "I'd love you even if you were old and rusty scrap. Maybe with a few burnt-out servos as well."

Data pretended to look hurt. "Old and rusty scrap? Burnt-out servos?" Indignation colored the android's tone, and his body language radiated insult and hurt feelings. Data decided to try his new mannerism in full. Pouting like any child, he crossed his arms and pretended to sulk. He wondered if the pout looked sexy or merely ridiculous. Tastes on that front seemed to vary wildly among humans.

Bruce couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, you've got that expression down pat. Will you let me make it up to you?"

_Ah. Ridiculous, then_. Still, Bruce seemed to enjoy playing this game, so Data decided to continue. In a sulky voice, he said, "Maybe I will, and maybe I will not. It depends."

Trying very hard not to smile, Bruce said, "Oh, I am sorry. Really." He carefully knelt down at the side of the chair where Data was sitting, so he could look the android in the eye. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, you know. What can I do to apologize properly?"

"A kiss would be nice," Data said plaintively, smiling just a little.

Making no answer, Bruce simply leaned forward and brushed his lips against Data's. His intentions of making it a quick, chaste kiss fell by the wayside somewhere within the first second.

_Finally!_ Data could not help but think as he returned the kiss, slowly at first, as if still sulky and unsure. Then he slowly took control, deepening the kiss before slowly pulling away.

"Mmmm," Bruce said breathlessly, his eyes shining. Continuing the teasing, he said, "You know, I ought to run some tests on you later tonight. I think you might be getting a short. See, I'm getting this tingly feeling when you kiss me." He touched a fingertip to his own lip.

Data raised his eyebrows. "It sounds serious. I suggest that we carry out those tests immediately."

Bruce backpedaled frantically. "Now? It's not even lunchtime. We can't just take the rest of the day off!" He stood up, a little awkwardly. Unconsciously tugging one-handedly at his uniform, the cyberneticist said in a scandalized tone, "Really, Data. We're on duty! We have to maintain some sort of decorum, you know. And there's a lot of work…"

Data stood up, putting Bruce between himself and the worktable. "I know. I just find myself not particularly caring about any of those things at this precise moment." He took a step closer. "Do you?"

Bruce couldn't seem to get anything intelligible to leave his mouth. Badly flustered, he fumbled for his PADD and wound up dropping it with a clatter.

Data turned away suddenly, sitting back down and taking his tools in hand. "You are right. It would not be proper conduct."

Unnerved by Data's sudden agreement, Bruce found his voice. "Well, maybe it wouldn't be so bad..." With a start, the cyberneticist realized how that sounded. "I, I didn't mean it like that! I just meant, well, after all, it _is_ research... sort of… and I don't have any meetings or anything scheduled for the afternoon… well, therapy, but I could go later…"

Artist: [drawsmaddy](https://drawsmaddy.tumblr.com/) Pls do not repost.

"'Close enough', I believe, is the expression." Data smiled a little more broadly now. He stood up and cupped Bruce's chin briefly before sliding his hand down along his throat. Leaning closer, Data let his tongue trace along Bruce's ear, before beginning to nibble on it.

"Data, we can't! Not here... ohhh, Data…" Too late; his body was already reacting predictably, making demands that were growing more strident with every second.

Data pulled his lover in for a passionate kiss. He could feel the precise moment when the other man gave in to what was happening.

Fumbling frantically at the closure of Data's jacket, Bruce managed to drag his lips away long enough to gasp, "Computer, privacy lock. Maddox-nine-delta-alpha-theta-alpha."

Data gave a purr of satisfaction, his experiment complete.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thanks: To Quoth, who feeds my fanfic addictions with one tasty morsel after another.


End file.
